SRU: The Flute - A Farmer Story By Dana Short Katelyn smiled as she entered the small shop in the Mall. She looked around, until her eyes settled on the old man in a bathrobe, standing behind the counter. "Ah, the lovely Katelyn!" the Old Man said, stepping forward. "Are you now making deliveries for your father?" "Well, I had to come down this way anyway, so I decided I might as well drop it off myself, rather than trust it to some Fed-Ex or UPS guy," Katelyn responded, holding out a small package to the Wizard. Taking the package, the Wizard said, "So this is it? Did he tell you how it worked?" "The same as all his other items," Katelyn explained, "In this case, since it is a flute, you play it, and that will trigger the transformation." "Can it be handled?" the Old Man asked, opening the package. "Umm... I am not sure. I never asked him. Let's say 'No' just to be safe," Katelyn answered with a grin. "Hmmm..." The Wizard, said, looking at the flute. "Well, I've got to go. Bye!" Katelyn called, darting out the door with a final smile and a wave. -o- Eric Billings walked through the mall, trying to figure out what to get his girlfriend for her birthday. That was when he spotted the shop. It was a small affair, looking completely out of place when compared to all the other shops in the mall. Also, while it certainly did not look like a new establishment, he could not remember ever seeing it there before. The name was somehow familiar though. "Spells 'R Us." He went inside, accompanied by the tinkling of a small bell. Inside the shop, he was greeted by an old man, wearing a bathrobe. Anywhere else, aside from maybe the old man's bathroom, he would have looked out of place, but here, he seemed to fit, just as much as the fact that this shop didn't seem to fit in with it's neighbors. "Ah, Eric. How nice to see you shopping for Jennifer's birthday present! Some guys would just get her a card, and maybe a box of candy after the troubles you two have been having lately." the old man said stepping towards Eric. Eric stopped in his tracks, and peered up at the old man. "Uh, do I know you from somewhere?" Eric asked. "No, Eric, this is the first time we have met, but you see, I'm a wizard, and part of my job is knowing things," the old man replied with a smile. "Especially about my customers." "A Wizard. Yeah, right," Eric said, looking around the shop, "I don't see any pinball machines in here." "Oh, that, it's in the back," the old man replied, grabbing Eric by the arm, and guiding him over to a counter, "But that's another story." "Now this is why you are here," the old man explained, stepping behind the counter, and opening the case, then removing a small box. "The perfect gift for Jennifer." He set the box on top of the counter and opened it up, revealing a flute. "Now this is a special Magic Flute. It serves several purposes, beyond just making music, one of which is it will solve all the problems you have been having in your relationship with Jennifer. Just be sure that she is the first one to play it, OK?" "A flute? I know she used to play the flute, years ago," Eric said, "but I don't think she does so anymore. How will it solve our problems?" "As I said, it's a magic flute. Trust me, once she has played this flute, all your current troubles will disappear," the wizard explained. "Hmmm...," Eric mused, "How much is it?" "Well, all things considered, how about Sixty Dollars? Does that sound fair to you?" the old offered. Eric had budgeted eighty dollars total for Jennifer's birthday present, and this would leave him with twenty dollars for flowers to go with it, just in case she didn't like the flute. So he responded, "OK, you've got a deal." "I usually do." the old man replied cryptically, and headed for the cash register on the counter closest to the door. -o- A few nights later, Eric sat looking at the flute in his back yard as he prepared to wrap it up. He had ordered a bunch of flowers to be delivered to Jennifer tomorrow at work, with an apology for their spat the night before. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he always failed to live up to her expectations. Maybe it was because she was so much smarter than him. He wasn't sure, but he knew they had some major problems in their relationship. He was getting ready to wrap the flute up for her when he decided to make sure it worked first. After all, all he needed to do was give her a present which didn't work right. Not that he knew much about playing a flute. The closest he had come was playing "Three Blind Mice" on a recorder in elementary school. He settled the flute in his mouth, positioned his fingers over the holes, and began to blow. Unlike his first puff on the recorder, which he recalled came out like some sort of small animal emitting its death scream, the sound which emitted from this flute was a clean, pure note. He moved his fingers, and with every combination, another pure, sweet note was produced. After several false starts, he even managed to reproduce his old elementary school performance of "Three Blind Mice," with much better results than he had had the first time around. It defiantly worked. He placed the flute back in its box, and carefully affixed the label, noting a stiffness in his fingers as he did so. "Funny," he thought to himself while flexing his fingers, "I guess I played that longer than I had realized." Suddenly he was overcome by a peculiar urge, to dig his toes into the soft dark dirt of the back yard. He set the package down and bent down, taking off his shoes, noting again the stiffness in all his joints, not just his hands. Barefoot, he walked over to a sunny spot in the yard, and followed the urge by digging his toes, and then his whole feet, into the dirt. That felt good. Luxuriating in the feel of the dirt on his feet, as opposed to the pain in his joints, he lifted his arms over his head in the sunlight, stretched his fingers out wide, and closed his eyes. He then took a deep breath, let it out, and relaxed, almost falling asleep. As his consciousness drifted away, he smiled, for the last time. Eric's body slowly changed as he stood there, his arms and legs stretched, and took on a yellowish color, similar to the flute's, until he was over fifteen feet tall, from the tips of his now skinny fingers to the ground. His head seemed to sink into his torso and vanish, as his arms thickened, and grew several vertical ridges. Next, each finger seemed to split all the way down his arm, through his torso, and on down his legs, until his body was deviled into ten round yellowish poles, which pulled apart slightly, shredding his clothes. Finally, small branches appeared along the length of the sticks, but mostly on the top, made up of many tiny sticks, usually branching out several times. At the end of each stick, a long thin green leaf appeared, and trembled gently in the evening breeze. -o- In a shop in a mall, an old man stopped what he was doing and scowled. That was all wrong. He moved to the front of the shop, and placed the Closed sign out, locking the door, then with a final scowl, the Wizard vanished. -o- Appearing on the front porch of the Farmer's house, the Old Man rapped on the door. A few moments later, the door was opened by Katelyn. "Hi!" she said, beaming at him. "Where is your father?" the Wizard demanded. "Pa's out back, fishing his pond," Katelyn replied, waving towards the back of the house, "Why?" "That flute you dropped off didn't work!" the Wizard snarled. Katelyn led the old man out back, where the Farmer was sitting on a barrel in the middle of the little dock at which was tied a tiny boat, just about right for the small pond. He had a fishing rod in his hand, and was eyeing a squirrel in a nearby tree. Suddenly he cast the rod, not at the pond, but at the tree, and the fly at the end soared through the air and caught in the squirrel's tail. Chuckling, the Farmer began to reel in the line, and the small animal fell out of the tree and began to slide towards the dock. As the squirrel slid along the ground, and bumped up onto the wood of the dock, its fur began to fall out, and its shape began to change. By the time it arrived at the Farmer's feet, and he stopped reeling it in, it looked more like a catfish than a squirrel. The Farmer pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, then he carefully worked the lure's hook out of the fish's tail and casually tossed the fish over is shoulder and into the pond. He then turned his eyes back to the shore, looking for another target. Suddenly he caught sight of Katelyn and the Old Man walking towards the pond. He got up off the barrel and went to meet the pair, laying the fishing rod against the barrel, with the lure dangling from the tip. "Your flute didn't work!" the Wizard yelled as they approached. "Whatcha mean it didn't work?" the Farmer asked coming to a stop. "I sold it to a young man, and he used it on himself," the Wizard explained, "you know they never listen to me when I tell them about the things they buy, but that's half the fun." "Fun. Humph!" the Farmer said turning back towards the dock. "Well, he played on the flute, he turned into a bunch of skinny little trees," the Wizard said, as he followed the Farmer out onto the dock, and watched him pick up the pole and pull a pair of pliers out of the tool box lying on the dock by the barrel. "It didn't work." "Sounds like it worked ta me," the Farmer said, deftly snipping the knot in the line, and letting the lure drop into the tool box. "So what's th' problem?" "You fool! It was supposed to change someone into a bimbo!" the Old Man complained. "An thass what it did!" the Farmer replied in frustration, setting the lure into his tool box and looking up again at the Wizard. "Ya'll tol me so yerself, it turned that feller into a Bamboo!"